


Peer Review

by walkandtalk



Series: Scientific Inquiry [4]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Eventual Relationships, First Dates, Humor, Kid Fic, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Matchmaking, Meddling, Romance, Smart James T. Kirk, Starfleet Academy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2020-12-14 05:21:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21010406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkandtalk/pseuds/walkandtalk
Summary: "A young Vulcan decides to find a mate for his guardian, Spock. After careful calculations, Cadet Kirk is obviously the superior choice."Spock's cousin admits it would be disingenuous not to acknowledge that all good science (and romance) comes from many, many failures. Thankfully, it was meticulously documented for later examination.The final part of Scientific Inquiry





	1. Abstract

“You need to propose marriage,” Senik announced to his older cousin during their weekly communication. He paused, unsure if his message was explicit enough. “To Jim. Soon.”

Spock, who had been recounting the Enterprise’s latest catalog of rhizomes in the science lab from the Zyrii system, was silent for far too long before he finally spoke up. “I am unsure how you came to this conclusion so suddenly.”

“This is not sudden,” Senik corrected. “You have missed four particularly meaningful events in Earth culture for formally declaring your intention for matrimony.”

“I have missed three,” Spock corrected, inadvertently validating Senik’s hypothesis that Spock had researched the topic, although it was unlikely it was as thorough or ongoing as his own, as Senik’s interest in Terran mating habits and Spock’s happiness predated Spock’s own self-interest.

“Four,” Senik insisted. “In order: New Year's Eve, Saint Valentine’s Day, the anniversary of your first meeting, and Jim’s birthday. You are fortunate, as the anniversary of your first official date is approaching.”

Spock frowned. “The anniversary of our first meeting was not between Earth’s New Year and Jim’s birthday.”

“Yes, it was. Stardate 2257.71”

“Point one-oh-six,” Spock objected.

Senik reached over holo emitter where Spock’s visibly affronted face hovered, light years away from Senik’s camp on New Vulcan, and found a PADD. He opened the relevant file and scrolled until he found the entry he was looking for. “You first interacted with a Cadet Kirk on stardate 2257.71,” he declared, satisfied his eidetic memory had not let him down.

“You have that written down,” Spock said, illogically describing the obvious.

“You are attempting to change the subject,” Senik observed.

“I am attempting to understand how you came to the conclusion that I must propose to Jim in the near future.”

Senik looked down at his PADD and the scores of files it held. “I have strong data to suggest to wait might be detrimental to the health of your romantic relationship. I have not been wrong.”

Spock stared silently, one eyebrow raised.

“I have proposed incorrect hypotheses,” Senik amended. “However, in this, I believe I am giving sound advice based on the best data available.”

Spock’s eyebrow raised further.

“And this time,” Senik amended further, “I have received supporting information from several sources.”

“I am listening.”

**\-- Years Earlier --**

Senik was an excellent example of a logical child.

He studied the principles of Surak and endeavored to apply logic in his daily decision making, which had, thus far, been satisfactory. Like any Vulcan child, his understanding of the universe was limited only by his efforts to apply logic and obtain knowledge.

At least, that was what the previous nine years of his life had led him to hypothesize.

The morning his mother announced that she had been accepted as a resident scientist aboard the Stokholm and could not take Senik with her, he immediately found several fallacies in the Stokholm’s commanding officer’s assessment. While he knew he was absolutely correct in his logic, it did not change the situation. Senik needed to-tashan, interim guardianship.

“Your father’s household is the most logical choice,” T’Mae observed serenely over their tea.

“It is the most obvious, not the most logical,” he immediately objected.

“Why, Senik-kam?”

“I do not wish to stay with him.”

T’Mae’s eyebrows lifted infinitesimally, but otherwise, she did not emote. Instead, she filled his plate with gespar. “His household is appropriately staffed and of sufficient location so as not to interrupt your studies. I would doubt you would need to see him more than you already do.”

“Ezyet Amanda and Toz’ot Sarek could--”

“While they are in residence on Vulcan for this month, they are soon to be reassigned. They do not know where, and could not guarantee you would have access to developmentally appropriate educational opportunities.”

Senik sat in silence, thinking about the problem and ate his gespar. He chewed thoroughly, unseeing as his mother added a second helping as he worked through the problem in his head. It took several minutes before he arrived at the only logical conclusion:

“Spock will be my guardian.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Gentle Readers,
> 
> It's been a little over six years since Objective Data was sent out into the world. I've enjoyed seeing readers share art, translations, and most recently, a podfic. My favorite part has been reading your thoughts and comments. If you are a new reader of you're a returning one, welcome, I hope you enjoy, and as always, thank you for being a reader.
> 
> All the best, walkandtalk


	2. Introduction

Spock traveled to the transportation terminal during his office hours. His department head bemusedly gave him permission, noting that Spock had not taken a single personal day during his entire tenure at Starfleet Academy. While Personnel Resources was informed of Spock’s temporary “change in family life” he saw no reason why he needed to make plans for his life to be so disrupted. It was difficult to explain how little supervision a Vulcan child needed, even in California.

It had been years since he had last seen his small cousin. He remembered receiving the birth announcement nine years ago, a formal message announcing the only daughter of the House of S’chn T’gai had given birth to the male heir apparent. Spock’s grandparents (the last gasping breaths of the defunct Vulcan aristocracy) had not formally recognized Spock as legitimate so T’Mae and Stutok’s son had been passed down the dubious title.

Six years later he met Senik, shortly after the death of his paternal grandparents and just before his graduation from Starfleet. He remembered a small, somber boy, a classic copy of the standard Vulcan child, with wide eyes that quietly watched everything behind T’Mae’s robes. Spock did not recall if the child had said a word to him or any other person at the gathering. In light of their non-existent relationship with his young cousin and his sparse communication with his aunt, it was surprising that T’Mae had declared her preference to name him in to-tashan, or guardianship over her son during her sabbatical on the Stokholm.

Spock, the half-Human who refused to join the Vulcan Science Academy.

Spock, who had a busy career as an instructor and officer.

The last time he had interacted with a child was when he, himself, was a child.

When his aunt requested he take up the burden of to-tashan, the thought to list his inadequacies had crossed his mind. Surely his aunt was aware of his lack of parenting skills. However, he had a spare bedroom and adequate resources to house a child. Senik was surely of an age in which he was self sufficient and only required a modicum of Spock’s time, perhaps on a weekly basis, and much of that could be handled remotely via video or written communication.

So Spock waited, still in his instructor uniform, in the transportation terminal to receive his young ward. When the shuttle arriving from Vulcan docked and the passengers disembarked, the smallest passenger was accompanied by one of the crew, who hovered and guided him to the arrivals platform where Spock stood. He waddled through the terminal, carrying two oversized black cases that were likely heavier than himself.

“You must be Cousin Spock,” the woman in crew uniform observed cheerfully when Spock approached and gestured to the boy beside her. “Here he is. All in one piece!”

“That is worth noting,” Senik agreed. “The warp core maintenance was subpar for a ship of its age.”

Her grin dropped. “Yes. Well. Here you go. Enjoy living on Earth.” She turned on her heel, shaking her head as she went.

Senik did not appear to take note, but deposited one of his cases, to raise his hand and offer him ta’al. “Tomasu Spock, dif-tor heh smusma.”

“Peace and long life,” Spock replied in Standard. “May I assist you with your luggage?”

Senik shook his head. “I would prefer to carry the equipment myself.”

“Equipment?”

“Mother assured me that anything I needed could be purchased but my science equipment may not be as easily obtained. I was entreated to pack as efficiently as possible.”

“I see. I will escort you to my residence so that you may unpack and inform me of your immediate needs.” Spock started to walk toward the exit but needed to slow down considerably for Senik, who looked as if he would topple over with his bags. When they finally reached the private transport that would take them home, the scientific instruments safely stored in the back, Senik hopped up on the bench next to Spock.

He was a small boy, for a Vulcan of his age. Spock was also slight at that age, often teased for his stature and mixed heritage. Senik was full Vulcan and took after his father quite a bit, with a thin mouth and narrow jaw. His narrow shoulders were shaking.

“It is the end of the warm season for San Diego,” Spock observed, leaning over to adjust the environmental controls. “You will acclimate yourself to the damper weather eventually, but it would be prudent to find warmer clothing.”

Senik nodded, wrapping his arms around himself and staring out the window.

“You will start your compulsory education tomorrow. Starfleet has granted you a spot in the laboratory school on campus for youth.” Senik perked up at that. “It is not what you think it means. The laboratory school is a Starfleet sponsored school designed for future educators and researchers, particularly those studying pan-species child development”

“I am being experimented upon,” Senik observed with slightly less enthusiasm.

Spock paused, weighing his words. “You are assisting in the process of developing an evidence-based curriculum.”

Senik considered this for a moment and then nodded. They passed the rest of the ride in silence.

\--

Spock’s home was a quiet ranch house in a neighborhood adjacent to the Starfleet Academy campus in Sausalito. The house was centuries-old, still retaining much of its proclaimed “early millennia charm.” The stone path from the street was flanked by Terran vegetation which Spock absently named when questioned by his cousin. Spock opened the door into the front room, which was furnished in the Human way, with a long couch and two armchairs. Part of the small, serviceable kitchen peaked out at the right and a hallway to the left led to the bedrooms.

Spock led Senik to the first bedroom, which looked over the small garden behind the house.

“This will be your room,” Spock said. Senik carefully swung the black equipment cases onto the narrow bed, fitted with clean blue sheets and a puffy damask quilt. There was a desk, lamp, and chair all in cool grey. A small basket stood on the desk. Senik peered at it inquisitively.

“It is from my mother,” Spock explained, a little defensive. “She wished for you to have something from Vulcan to welcome you here.”

Senik picked up a packet of savas and examined it. “Please relay to her that her memory has not failed, despite her increasing age and that these are still my preferred form of mid-day nutrition.”

Spock nodded his head but decided he would not relay that particular message in its entirety. “I must return to campus. On my way home I will purchase any items you may require. Please provide me a list with your communicator.”

Senik nodded. “When will you return?”

“1900 hours. Take advantage of the food in the fresher and the replicator for your evening meal, although the replicator’s databank is significantly smaller than one you may be used to.”

Senik nodded and Spock returned to campus.

\--

When Spock returned, the house was quiet and dark, with the exception of Senik’s room and the softest of noises indicating he was moving around in it. He knocked on the boy’s door, which was promptly opened.

"Good evening."

“Tomasu Spock, might I inquire as to the location of your geo-spectral analysis kit?”

Spock looked over Senik’s shoulder where several pieces of equipment that not even he had cause to use were organized on the bed.

“I do not have one.”

Senik visibly wilted. “I was not able to bring mine. Mother suggested I would not need it, but upon reflection…” he trailed off, turning back to his bed to organize what looked like a molecular scanner and its related peripheral equipment on the shelf above his desk.

Spock held out two bags of dry goods. “Your requested items.”

“Thank you, tomasu.”

Spock stood still for a second and then nodded, leaving Senik to organizing a well-equipped science lab in the spare bedroom.

\--

Several hours later, Senik emerged, dressed in the nightclothes Spock had purchased and found his elder cousin in the living room. Spock looked up from his reading.

“Tomasu, I shall retire for the evening.”

Spock puzzled over the announcement of Senik’s activities. Surely he knew when to sleep to obtain the optimal rest for his age. Spock thought back to his own nightly routine.

“Sweet dreams,” he said, out of reflex.

Senik blinked. “Sweet dreams?”

“It is what my mother said to me,” Spock explained, now uncomfortable he had misstepped and confused the boy. “I believe it was a common Terran invocation to support one in pleasant and effective slumber, although likely ineffective.”

“I appreciate the cultural insight,” Senik remarked, still making no move to leave, which puzzled Spock more.

“Do you require anything else for the night?” Spock inquired.

Senik blushed, a light green creeping up his ears. “My nightly routine includes meditation.”

Spock nodded. “You have permission to use my lamp whenever you require,” Spock said, gesturing to the low table in the corner of the room where the lamp and incense sat.

“My mother,” Senik explained haltingly, “accompanied me. To assist.”

Spock put down his PADD and looked at him a little closer. At nine years of age, most children were adept at basic meditation. When Spock was young, several years younger than Senik, his father would meditate with him to help guide his chaotic mind through the calming and logical ritual.

Senik blushed greener under the scrutiny.

Spock nodded without further comment, putting his reading to the side and stood to pull the little meditation table out from the wall to make room for the both of them. Senik fell to the floor, legs tucked neatly in loshirak position and waited for Spock to begin.

“Kaadith,” he said, recalling the meditation exercise his father used with him in his childhood. “Wh’ltri a’enok.” He could feel the psionic tethers that knit his family together. With some concentration, he was able to single out Senik in the family bond. The boy calmed immediately and went through the exercise easily.

When they ended, Senik and Spock moved to their feet.

Senik nodded his head. “I will be ready at 0800 for school.”

Spock returned the polite nod and watched Senik return to his room. Before he shut his door he turned back to Spock.

“Sweet dreams.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gentle readers,
> 
> I am so happy to see so many familiar names and some new ones too! I'm seriously feeling all the warm and fuzzies. I don't have a lot of chapters "saved up" but I thought I'd better share them while I have them. Thanks for joining me and for being a reader.
> 
> Sweet dreams, walkandtalk


	3. Methods

Senik and Spock stood in front of the brick building clearly labeled “Zefram Cochrane Laboratory School.” It was quite unlike any learning center on Vulcan. Large flags just inside the door proclaimed “Kindness is Key” and “Quantum Physics Is Out Of This Quadrant!” The school day had commenced an hour prior, but the halls and grounds were mostly empty. Through the windows, Senik could see groups of children working at small desks and on the floor. Just to the left of the school was a spaceship made of acrylic in primary colors.

When they approached the doors someone was waiting for them.

“Hello,” a tall Human woman greeted. “You must be Commander Spock and Senik. I’m Dr. Honda, the Head Teacher. Welcome to the Cochrane Laboratory School.”

“Thank you,” Spock replied. “I appreciate your school allowing Senik to attend on short notice.”

“Our pleasure, Commander. We are always happy to accommodate our Starfleet families, however long they are here. I’m sure you are already familiar with our brochure and mission of respectful pan-cultural education, and this year we have families representing nineteen different systems. And you,” Dr. Honda leaned down to look Senik directly in the eye, “are our very first representative of Vulcan. Isn’t that neat?”

Senik’s eyes widened, but he did not comment.

“Come with me and I’ll introduce you to your teacher and let you get settled in your room.”

The head teacher escorted them through a hallway, pointing out the music area, the language center, library, “playground” and dining facilities. “We cater to all student’s cultural, dietary and sensory needs,” she added. “Our curriculum is holistic and child-centered with a focus on interspecies community and cooperation.” 

“How does the apparatus work?” Senik questioned, finally breaking his silence.

“The appa- oh, the swings,” Dr. Honda smiled. “A favorite among Human children, you move your legs back and forth to get higher and higher.”

“For gross motor development, I presume. A most intriguing use of kinetic and potential energy in sensory regulation.”

Dr. Honda’s eyebrows rose. “Yes, indeed. This way, please.”

They passed by a science laboratory.

“Do you have a geospectral analysis kit?” Senik asked, peering through the doors where a group of children, presumably younger than he, were analyzing the chemical composition of various types of candy.

Dr. Honda paused. “No, I don’t believe we do. Are you interested in science? We just installed an astrophysics lab. It’s almost identical to one you might find on a real starship.” She bent low again so her head was level with Senik. “Isn’t that neat?”

Senik did not respond, but Dr. Honda did not seem to notice. They stopped in front of a room with a bright yellow door proclaiming it “The Tribble Room” with students already working in groups at computer stations. “This is your room,” Dr. Honda announced. “Now, your teacher is Mr. L’lok. He and your future friends are very excited to meet you. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me, my office door is always open.” She knocked brightly at the door. “Hello, Mr. L’lok. Our newest learner is ready to board!”

\--

Spock walked the two blocks to his campus office, taught his morning class and found a message from Dr. Honda posted forty-two minutes prior, of an urgent nature. He informed his department chair of another unexpected event related to his “change in family life” and walked back to the Zephram Cochrane Laboratory School.

\--

Senik sat in Dr. Honda’s office, feet dangling over the edge of the overstuffed yellow and green chair. The wall behind her desk proclaimed that “Every Learner Has A Gift To Share!” in twelve different Federation languages. In the corner, there was a table with blocks and a stack of literature about curriculum and child development.

“Senik, when I said my door was always open, I wasn’t expecting you to take advantage of the opportunity so soon. What’s wrong.”

“There is nothing wrong, Dr. Honda. I simply wished to gain more insight into the curriculum applied at the school and what expectations and methods I could expect for the rest of the day.”

Dr. Honda smiled. “I think Mr. L’lok could tell you that.”

Senik shook his head. “He could not. He had the following four days of lessons ready but could not share any more for analysis.”

Dr. Honda’s smile didn’t twitch. “It sounds like this is a problem that requires us to cooperate and learn from each other.” She pulled out a PADD. “So Senik, I invite you to start. What are some solutions you can think of that could help you solve your problem? Go ahead and list as many you can think of.”

And he did.

\---

An hour later, Dr. Honda was hunched over her desk, silently scribbling, attempting to synthesize the highlights of Senik’s nineteen-point argument, she said.

“It is b’gume not ‘u’gume,” Senik said.

“I beg your pardon?”

Senik pointed to the third row of the repeated nonsensical adage behind her head. “The verb in Caitian is b’gume.”

Dr. Honda turned around, observing the words behind her. “You know some Caitian?”

“Caitian and High Golic share many of the same root words and grammatical morphemes.”

“It sounds like you have an interest in languages. I think that’s really neat.”

Senik continued to inspect the room.

“Ah, Commander Spock. Thank you for joining us.” Senik looked up to see his cousin standing in the doorway, staring back at Senik. “Please, take a seat in our Discussion Circle.”

Spock sat on the overstuffed teal bean bag next to Senik and Dr. Honda took the mushroom-shaped puff, placing them all at an equal height.

“So,” Dr. Honda said, clasping her hands together. “We are here, in the Discussion Circle, where everyone is equal and deserves to be heard. I’ve asked us here because Senik has ‘declined to return to class’ and feels he has ‘completed all the necessary course work for the entirety of the week,’” she explained, her voice taking on the slow and careful quality she had used with Senik earlier. “We’ve spent some time talking about the Cochrane Laboratory School’s mission and student outcomes,” Dr. Honda handed Spock a pamphlet entitled  The Cochran Kid “but I feel that perhaps Senik is deflecting and there is a bigger problem that he wants to share. Senik, would you like to start?” She handed him a wooden stick dappled with paint and yarn. “This is the talking stick. Whoever has it, has the right to speak.”

Senik accepted it and turned to his cousin. “I have completed all the outlined course objectives from Mr. L’lok lesson plans. As a cursory exercise, I completed the unit assessments and submitted them. I have finished school for the week and I propose I return to school in a month’s time for a morning to submit the next unit exams. I find it would be a more practical use of my time.”

Spock nodded thoughtfully to Senik’s proposal, but then stopped upon glancing at Dr. Honda, who held out her hand to accept the talking stick.

“I was just telling Senik that his interest in languages is very neat. I may have mentioned, but there are many students from other systems here with cultures and languages that he is not familiar with and he could be interested in creating relationships with those students and learning more about their culture.” She paused meaningfully and then held out the talking stick. “What do you think about that, Senik?”

Senik didn’t take it the offered stick. “It sounds inefficient.”

To her credit, the Head Teacher didn’t flinch. “Yes, creating relationships and making friends isn’t easy. Sometimes it can be scary to make a friend, because it means we have to practice listening, kindness, and cooperation. It’s not easy to learn who someone is simply by studying them like a book. It’s a skill that is developed, just like your skills in science.”

Senik perked up. “It is?”

Dr. Honda’s smile got wider. “Yes! Certainly, the more we practice making relationships, the better we become.”

“I find this concept to be novel, tomasu,” Senik disclosed. “I have not thought to take an interest in the psychology of humanoid relationships. When does The Tribble Room cover this topic?”

“I- that is, it’s not in the curriculum, per se, but embedded in your daily-”

Senik looked away, examining the rug on the floor decorated with Standard, Tellerite, and Klingon alphabet. 

“Perhaps, Dr. Honda,” Spock started, looking up from the school pamphlet.

“Talking stick?” she offered brightly.

Spock accepted it. “Perhaps, we should talk privately?”

Dr. Honda nodded, frowning, and Senik hopped off the couch and into the hallway, the door closed behind him.

He stood for a minute, then noticed the door that lead out into the grassy area with swings, the seats that dangled from a pole by chains. As he got closer to the seats, he could see they were attached to the brightly colored spaceship he had seen earlier. He took one of the seats and waited, his toes grazing the gravel below.

Several minutes later, Spock approached Senik, absent of talking stick.

"Upon reflection of the arguments you submitted to Dr. Honda, we have agreed that the Cochrane school is not suitable to your needs, even as a monthly special guest."

Senik hung his head. Surely he would be returned to Vulcan to live at his father's estate and be tended by a rotation of staff.

“The geology lab on campus has several geospectral analysis kits,” Spock declared. The boy’s shoulders straightened immediately. “If you were enrolled as a student at the Academy auditing classes, you would be granted access to several of the labs.”

Senik nodded. “That would be most agreeable.”

“However, I must implore you to be circumspect in your actions. It would behoove you to take Dr. Honda’s advice and observe the Humans and others around you, take note of their behavior and reflect on your own, as I did when I left Vulcan.”

“You wish me to research Human behavior so that I might better conduct myself on Earth?”

Spock nodded. “You might find the transition easier at Starfleet Academy with more academically rigorous subjects, but socially you will need to apply a keen and thoughtful mind to the social mores and expectations of your host planet.”

“Understood, tomasu.” Senik paused, thinking. “I believe I must first visit the library.”


	4. Experiment

Jim knew he had gotten the short straw in campus jobs. It was the beginning of his third year, he opted to do a double short term instead of applying like everyone else and only by chance, through Gaila’s roommate, had he heard about this opening in the campus library.

The room was empty. The staff librarian explained that he was the only one in his department, rarely needed as the central computer rarely had difficulty parsing the meaning of the queries. On occasion, it needed some “organic help.” There was no room for him in a normal office, so Jim’s organic assistance was regulated to the basement, where some actual paper books were stored in special rooms and a small work station had been cleared for the lone part-time Help Desk Correspondent.

“Welcome to your new home away from home,” Uhura declared, pulling out a chair graciously.

Jim plastered on a delighted face, gracelessly plopping into the chair and spinning. “Comfy. Excellent… industrial lighting.”

His fellow cadet smirked, not believing his mask for a second. “There’s a module ready for you in the staff training portal, your shift starts promptly at 1500 and ends at 1900.” With that, she turned on her heel and started walking to the modern linguistics section of the library, where they probably had windows. And people. "Don't try to trick the productivity meter."

“Why?” he asked, voice echoing in the empty basement.

“You’ll find out,” Uhura replied

Jim shrugged and spun back to his workstation, opening the staff portal to start the module, “You & The Starfleet Academy Library Support Services” in flashing blue. He doodled while the video played, suggesting scenarios and verbiage for answering basic questions posed to the Support Services System, its supporting algorithm, and how a Help Desk Correspondent could assist the bright minds of the Federation. He passed the little survey with the requisite 80% accuracy and navigated to the newly opened portal, waiting with five messages that the central computer could not answer to the patron’s satisfaction.

> _ Query: Pre-warp Kalop system vegetation list of flowers at basal temperature of Kalopians _
> 
> _ Priority: Normal. _

Interesting and easily found answer, Jim discovered, navigating the library system handily and linking the patron to the correct information. A little virtual dashboard on the side of the screen used to keep track of his productivity and evaluate his work blinked green and the little meter increased.

He squinted at it, unimpressed.

> _ Query: Best examples of modern Klingon opera and its themes of anti-Federation sentiment, not KarMorug or contemporaries. _
> 
> _ Priority: Normal. _

Interesting and specific. Jim easily navigated around the system to forward the question to the music archives office on the third floor.

And so the rest of the shift went on until the final question of the day popped onto his screen.

> _ To the Starfleet Academy Library Support Services Help Desk Correspondent, _
> 
> _ Query: Please advise on literature regarding Human behavior. _
> 
> _ Priority: Normal. _
> 
> _ Gratitude, _
> 
> _ Patron ID 71010 _

Jim stared at it. For what department? And how much? He flexed his fingers, ran a quick search among departments, got lost in a rabbit hole of psychology and “self-help books” through the centuries, and saw his productivity meter dipping into yellow. He hated that little meter already.

He linked Patron 71010 to prominent psychologists and sociologists works, three modern frameworks of Human behavior, literature reviews on religious practices, a three-century review of Earth’s economic practices, and one popular nonfiction self-help book, “Folding Your Arms and An Unnecessary Amount of Eye Contact: How To Talk To A Terran.”

He ended it there before his little meter turned red, hoped Patron 71010 appreciated the broad net he had cast, and logged out of his work station.

\--

The next day wasn’t much better.

> _ Query: Why black holes black? _
> 
> _ Priority: Urgent. _

Jim groaned, toyed with the idea of sending it to the astrophysics department to answer themselves, but out of annoyance sent 19 dissertations from the last four centuries on black hole theory and a children’s physics book. Surely that would be sufficient.

> _ To the Starfleet Academy Library Support Services Help Desk Correspondent, _
> 
> _ Query: Please advise on cross-species relationships. _
> 
> _ Priority: Normal. _
> 
> _ Gratitude, _
> 
> _ Patron ID 71010 _

Jim blinked. By the time he had started to find the details of the campus counseling department, a second reply followed.

> _ To the Starfleet Academy Library Support Services Help Desk Correspondent, _
> 
> _ Correction: Please advise on literature regarding cross-species relationships. _
> 
> _ Priority: Normal. _
> 
> _ Gratitude, _
> 
> _ Patron ID 71010 _

Jim nodded thoughtfully and started compiling lists across xeno sociology and psychology including several field surveys, the works neatly sent before his productivity meter could flash yellow at him.

Two hours later from 71010:

> _ To the Starfleet Academy Library Support Services Help Desk Correspondent, _
> 
> _ Query: Advise on literature about Vulcan and other species relationships. _
> 
> _ Priority: Urgent. _

Jim’s brow wrinkled but went searching through the archives. He messaged the xeno-sociology department, but on urgent notice they could only send a little-known magazine interview with Dr. Amanda Grayson that briefly mentioned marriage to an Ambassador Sarek and some pre-reformation poetry.

So Jim went diving into fiction and came up with “The Vulcan Captain the Virgin Yeoman,” and “Six Sinful Nights in S’Lara.” Not the most robust or accurate works, but there was so little to work with, he sent what he could.

Immediately the meter flashed red. _Unsupported evidence._

Jim scoffed. "Computer, log this as... creative works from an appropriate source: fictional erotica pertaining to the relevant topic."

The computer processed Jim's additional data and then flashed green. _Accepted._

He mentally logged it as a victory and moved on to the next question.

> _ Query: What sound do spaceships make? _
> 
> _ Priority: Urgent. _

_ \--_

Over the next five shifts, Jim got no less than 34 messages from Patron 71010. His supervisor (who had honestly forgotten they had replaced the last cadet as a Help Desk Correspondent) said that it was a new record and wondered if patron 71010 knew how to operate the standard computer interface.

Queries included:

> _Holonovels and other works regarding instruction on forming healthy platonic relationships absent of juvenile themes and woodland creatures_
> 
> _Age limits for Starfleet application_
> 
> _How to secure geo-spectral analysis kit_
> 
> _How to power geo-spectral analysis kit in residential Terran home_
> 
> _How to hide geo-spectral analysis kit_
> 
> _Advise on best location for courtship, Alameda, California and surrounding areas_

Jim's productivity level plummeted.

\--

A week in, Jim cornered Uhura before she left for the day.

“Please tell me there’s another opening somewhere,” he pleaded.

“Can’t hack it at the help desk, Iowa?” she asked, crossing her arms, unimpressed.

“I know too much,” he confided in a dramatic hushed tone. “I’ve seen archives no being could unsee. It’s getting to me.”

“That bad?”

“Yes,” Jim replied emphatically.

“There’s a position opening up next week in the astrometrics processing lab. Very boring.”

“I’ll take it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello gentle readers,
> 
> First, if you're still here or just now joining, thank you! Without elaborating, it's been hard to write and my self-care energy has been needed in other areas. Your notes and kudos were seen and appreciated more than you know.
> 
> I hope this was a little humorous bit of fluff to brighten your day. Thank you for being a reader.
> 
> Wishing all the best for you, walkandtalk


	5. Experiments, Continued

In all, adjusting for Senik took noticeably little work once Spock learned not to make too many assumptions or plans.

Spock acquired some items of warm Terran youth clothing. Senik wore his Vulcan robes.

Spock acquired plomeek and vranto. Senik grew a fondness for “Grape Nuts” for breakfast, which were neither grapes nor nuts.

Spock enrolled him in the highest rated school in the solar system. Senik withdrew and audited seven electives from Starfleet Academy. His aunt and Senik’s mother, T’Mae, made no comment but neither did she look surprised when Senik informed her of his new academic choices.

“...Xenolinguistic Phonology, Fractal Calculus, and Non-Federation Civilizations,” the boy listed dutifully to his mother, Spock listening with one ear while he read during Senik’s bi-weekly holovid update.

“You’ve already studied Fractal Calculus.”

“I would benefit from more study,” Senik said, but his ears flushed green. T’Mae made no comment, merely lifted one eyebrow in a way that was eerily similar to Spock’s own father. Senik continued. “I hypothesize that the students in Fractal Calculus may have some interests I have in common. At tomasu Spock’s suggestion, I wish to study human behavior more closely and learn what I can from them.”

“To what purpose?” T’Mae asked, clearly intrigued.

“Tomasu Spock believes his own study of Human behavior has been beneficial. Considering his vocational goals and success thus far, it is not an entirely futile exercise. I will attempt to follow his guidance for the next two weeks.”

T’Mae nodded thoughtfully. “I anticipate a full report. I must sign off. Goodnight, Senik-kam.”

Senik flushed again. “Mother,” he hissed, glancing at Spock to ascertain if he had reacted to his mother’s affectionate nursery name. “Spock can hear you.”

“Indeed,” she placated, brows raised expectantly.

“Goodnight, Ko-mehk,” the boy grumbled and signed off. Senik spun around in his chair until he was facing Spock.

“My mother treats me as one would a child,” Senik declared.

Spock set down his PADD. “You are a child.”

“Not for many more years. I will take my kahs-wan next year. I am telik and have a bondmate. We will go to the appointed place and prebond soon.”

“Do not confuse the rites of adulthood with maturity. When I was a child, with a child’s mind, I rushed into my kahs-wan. It cost me the life of my sehlat, I-Chaya. In my foolish wish to advance to adulthood I failed to reflect and grow in maturity.”

“Are you telik?”

A pause. “No longer. Does this make me a child?”

Senik’s brows furrowed in concentration. “No.”

Spock nodded, satisfied, and returned to his reading and got a paragraph in.

“Tomasu?” Spock looked up. “Why are you not telik?”

“T’Pring and I were incompatible. I have not found another potential bondmate.”

Senik nodded thoughtfully and Spock returned to his journal article.

“Have you tried?”

Spock looked up again, eyes narrowing. “Yes, briefly.”

“Unsuccessfully,” Senik inferred.

“Correct.”

“Why were you unsuccessful?”

Spock grappled with how to condense ten years of tense and baffling social behavior of his previous relationship partners for his young cousin. “It is… complicated. There are many factors, quantifiable and not quantifiable, that determine the success of any relationship. Some beings spend decades trying to find an appropriate life partner.”

Senik’s brows furrowed and he remained silent and Spock pretended to go back to reading. The boy was silent but Spock could infer what he was thinking, he had already heard it before, the darkest yet logical observations of his Vulcan peers and his own conscious:

_ You are (half) Vulcan, you don’t know that you have decades to find a partner. _

_ Your bondmate left you because you were unsuitable. _

_ Logic would dictate that a negligible time spent in the pursuit of a bondmate results in negligible results _ . That last thought distinctly sounded like his father.

When Senik finally did speak, it was not what he expected.

“Where does one find a bondmate, the Human way?”

Spock wondered if this line of questioning would ever cease. “There are many avenues available to Humans. I am not aware of all the social mores of all Human courtship, but from what I gather they tend to find partners that have similar interests and values and most connect through self-made introductions or mutual social connections.”

The boy pondered this, made some notes upon his PADD.

“I thank you for your insight, tomasu. I bid you goodnight.”

“Good night, Senik-kam.”

Senik’s ears turned green again, but he shuffled off to his room and started his nightly ablutions without comment.

\--

Breakfast was becoming companionable. Spock recognized that perhaps Senik needed to practice his Human socializing skills and so indulged in his ward’s attempts at small talk.

Had he been to any of the public parks in Alameda? Did he know how to ride any Terran mammals? Where was the nearest beach and when would sunset commence there? Who did Spock work with? Did they have families? How would he rank the utility, attractiveness and overall satisfaction in his colleagues?

Spock declined to answer at least 20% of those inquiries. Regardless, it appeared to be a beneficial learning experience over Grape Nuts.

Spock had created an adequate study space in Senik’s sleep quarters, although he could not provide a spectral analysis kit. Still, the boy preferred to study in Spock’s office, tucked into one corner, owlishly watching the cadets filter into the office for help. Instead of being distracted his students were immediately charmed, there was no other word for it. Senik did not seem to notice.

That afternoon Spock was scrolling through another cadet’s essay, making notes and he went and noticed that Senik had not arrived from his final lecture of the day.

“Ahem.” Spock looked up from his work to find a petite figure standing in the doorway. “Is this where we check in?”

“To what are you referring?” he asked, baffled by the civilian in his doorway.

“I’m Sna’du, answering your call,” Sna’du said, gesturing to their ensemble of fuzzy green sweater and riotous printed trousers and matching velvet cape. “The ad said ‘courageous type’ and I didn’t know how to best accessorize,” they admitted offhand. “Do we check in here or are you the one casting for the part?”

Spock blinked, a bit dazed and distracted by the cacophony of colors. “Neither. I believe you have the wrong room.”

Sna’du tutted and looked at their personal comm screen. “This is the room. So you aren’t running auditions? How dreadful, this cape is not returnable,” they sighed and walked out of Spock’s room without a word.

Spock was rendered speechless but recovered when Senik popped into the room, arms full of PADDS, looking as if he had been running.

“You had a visitor, tomasu?”

Spock nodded, too preoccupied by the unusual exchange to wonder how Senik knew of Sna’du the actor. “Yes, not a student,” he concluded, turning back to his work.

“How would you describe them?”

“Incompetently lost.”

Senik’s eyebrows knitted together. He set his PADDs on “his” desk in the corner and started to sort through them to made some annotations to a document. They were interrupted when another knock came at the door.

“Full fathom five thy father lies, of his bones are coral made,” a woman bellowed when Spock opened it. “Those are pearls that were his eyes. Nothing of him that doth fade, but doth suffer a sea-change into something rich and strange.”

Spock glanced at Senik, who looked enraptured. The Human was dressed in a black turtleneck and a feathered cap that brushed the doorframe. “Can I help--”

“I am but your humble servant, dear sir,” the stranger replied, sweeping him a bow. “If Klingon opera is more to your taste, I need to inform you now that I’ve had a bit of a head cold and could not do the soprano justice,” she paused, looking expectantly at Spock. “Or Surakian poetry? Or Pre-Awakening mythology, the Infinite Death of Alep-kir is one of my most requested.”

“I don’t think you are--”

“Oh no,” she interrupted, her face crumpling. “It was the Shakespeare, wasn’t it? I came on too strong. Classic does not mean enlightened and intelligent. I read and reread the brief, but with so little go on, I’m sure you understand I need a second chance.”

“I believe there must be some misunderstanding,” Spock objected, painfully aware that if he did not interrupt this woman, his neighboring instructors would be treated to a serenade in Klingon.

“This isn’t 208b in the science annex?”

“It is, however-”

“I knew this particular job had very stringent requirements to be discussed after the audition. That is not how I usually work, you understand, my talents are in high demand. I could take myself to any number of talent scouts, but none are offering any equity in the production.” The stranger finally paused and looked down her nose at Spock. “What kind of casting call are you running?”

“I am not,” Spock finally got out before he could be interrupted. “I believe the room number is in error.”

And so another disgruntled actor left Spock’s office. He had sat back down in his chair when another face poked in through the door.

“Excuse me, do you want us one at a time?”

Spock stood, walking over to the door to see three more people waiting in a line, all beaming expectantly.

“I am sorry to inform you there is no casting call here,” he announced. “I recommend you return to the front desk of this building and inquire with the staff there as to your actual location.”

As expected, their smiles faded and most turned around, but the first in line looked down at their comm, puzzled as the people before her. “May I?” he asked, gesturing to the screen. There he read in flashy font:

**“In search of: one being to fulfill a role for a special project, looking for a character of intelligence, courageousness and creativity. Must be unengaged. Details to be discussed upon initial first impression, equal partnership with the project is being offered.**

**May require intraquadrant travel and inconvenient hours. Starfleet Academy Science Annex, 208b, Alameda California, Earth. Serious inquiries only.”**

He handed the PADD back to the actor, and went back to his desk to attempt for a third time to complete his work.

“Do you like Klingon opera?” Senik asked, interrupting Spock’s perplexed thoughts.

“Not particularly.” He paused, swinging around to where the boy sat. “Are you writing down my responses?”

Senik nodded, unphased.

“Why?”

“For future reference,” Senik replied solemnly.

It was a most unusual office hour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gentle Readers,
> 
> I hope in the future there are more capes. :-) Thank you, as always, for being a reader!


	6. Results

> _ “You first interacted with a Cadet Kirk on stardate 2257.71,” he declared, satisfied his eidetic memory had not let him down. _
> 
> _ “You have that written down,” Spock said, illogically describing the obvious. _
> 
> _ “You are attempting to change the subject,” Senik observed. _

**Several Years Earlier, stardate 2257.68**

Spock and Senik walked in tandem across the quadrangle of the oldest part of the Academy. It stood adjacent to an historic commercial district lined with little shops and wide tinted windows made of actual glass.

Senik stopped at one, looking up at the green sign. Spock did not know it, but they had arrived.

“This is a coffee shop?” Senik asked, peering inside the quiet shop. Spock nodded, a quizzical look on his face. “I wish to enter.”

Not having any pressing engagements, Senik was grateful Spock followed him without comment. The smell assaulted him first: unpleasant half-burning overlaid with cloying vanilla, milk, and gluten. Cheerful wordless music played and several patrons were nestled in little tables drinking their beverages.

“Welcome!” a cheerful voice trilled. “How may I help you today?”

Senik peered over the counter eyeing the menu.

“I am here to view your options,” he announced. “I will inform you when I have made my choice.”

For some reason, that made the barista chuckle. “Sure thing, kid. And for you?”

Senik refused to look at Spock. The most minimal amount of subterfuge was part of the design, after all. Senik held off on any mental congratulations until he could sit down and review what was about to transpire.

“No, thank you,” Spock replied. The barista nodded and waited, rocking back and forth on their feet. Senik reviewed the bagel selections twice before he gave up trying wait out Spock, the silence perhaps enticing the older cousin into saying something else.

“I am experiencing difficulty deciding among these choices,” Senik observed.

“I can help with that,” the barista offered, digging into a drawer. “Coffee or tea?”

“Tea.”

“Darjeeling or Earl Grey?”

Senik sniffed the offered samples. “Early Grey.”

“Hot or iced?”

“Hot.”

“Sounds like you’ve got your order,” the barista pronounced.

“Tea. Earl Grey. Hot,” Senik said firmly.

The barista held up a cup, a marker hovering above it. “Name?”

“Spock,” Senik declared. “It is not my name. It is his,” he said gesturing.

“Okay, Spock’s friend,” the barista muttered, jotting down the name on the side of the cup. 

“Spock is not my friend,” Senik immediately corrected. “He is 29.2 Terran cycles in age and interested in xenobiology, astrophysics, and chess. Aside from myself, he has no other consistent companions.” He heard Spock sniff and ignored it. “He has trouble socializing optimally, but I am assisting.”

“Sounds like you’re being a friend?” the other said kindly.

Senik paused, considering. “We share several interests.”

The barista looked between Senik and Spock, brows raised, and nodded slowly. “Just a couple minutes, we’ll have that right out to you.”

Senik moved a few paces away, leaving Spock standing at the register to accept the tea when it was ready. He tried to position himself perfectly in front of the windows with its peculiar float glass so he could be covert in his observations. Several minutes passed by, Spock made no attempt to engage in conversation and neither did the barista. His tomasu collected the beverage and met Senik at the door, handing over the warm cup without comment.

“I think I made an error, earlier,” Senik acknowledged as they continued to the public transport terminal to go home. “Spock, I believe could be categorized as friends while simultaneously sharing a familial relationship. We enjoy many of the same topics. We share many preferences. We spend several hours in each other’s presence. In most cultures, it would be accurate to categorize our status as such.”

“Your observation is sound,” Spock conceded.

\--

  * <strike>Coffee Shop</strike>
  * Childhood friend (T’Pring, not a viable candidate)
  * Old nemesis (also T’Pring)
  * Soulmates/t’hy'la (highly improbable bordering on mythical)
  * Reconnecting with an old flame (T’Pring again. Still a negligible positive outcome.)

Senik had eaten, meditated, and written his first paper for Non-Federation Civilizations. It was his habit to return to his room to write to his mother or practice the lyre that Spock had lent him. However, tonight Spock was to return from a two-day summit in Lagos, on the other side of the planet. He had been assigned a “babysitter” as Terran custom held that he was not responsible enough to sleep and eat safely without direct in-person supervision.

“Good evening, Senik,” Spock greeted. If he was surprised to see that Senik had stayed up for him, he did not mention it.

“Good evening. Was your trip productive, tomasu?”

Spock nodded. “It was a constructive meeting, several attendees were interested in potential exploratory research projects aboard the Enterprise. However, there was a mistake in booking the rooms.” Spock paused. “I had to cohabitate with Lieutenant Hu.” Senik’s eyes widened with anticipation. “Serendipitously, she was able to procure an air mattress for the first night and the second night her partner found her another room.”

Senik retreated to his room and looked at his dwindling list.

<strike> Forced to share a bed. </strike>

\--

His first class of the morning, Non-Federation Civilizations, was chosen because it was also one of the largest lectures he could audit. _ Cast a wide net into a sea of fish _, one of the self-help books recommended. Fish were potential life partners and as Spock apparently avoided the business of casting, Senik’s skills as a scientist had to be the net, if one followed the analogy to its logical conclusion.

That being said, the chances that one of these cadets would be a potential life partner for Spock was slim. Spock would never enter into a romantic relationship with a student or potential student, so that removed nineteen students. 

Spock also needed to telepathically bond with a being with a central nervous system, so that removed two of his classmates, including one Breen. Likely the Breen would have been disqualified from Senik’s spreadsheet on the basis of Federation allegiance, which was rated quite high on the preference inventory he had distributed to Spock’s parents.

Must be of suitable age. Removed one Chekov, A.

Must be unattached, removed forty classmates, but that number fluctuated regularly. Senik was having difficulty keeping up with the calculations on the public comms, but had developed an algorithm to predict based on public social posts. The Deltan who sat two rows behind him had bought two stuffed animals as a gift to her girlfriend, 80% probability the relationship would terminate in the next two weeks.

The new variables and algorithms were a challenge, but he utilized Spock’s Academy library pass to fill in his ignorance of Terran mating customs. He set down his satchel and opened his PADD, hoping to add more information to his database. He had--

“Qi’tarr’wae,” a voice snarled, kicking Senik’s satchel a meter away from his feet. Senik looked up to see an enraged Andorian, covered in his own beverage. Apparently, he had tripped. 

“Your boots will be in water,” the cadet spat, his free fist clenching. Senik felt his face flush, first in fear, and then in embarrassment for showing any emotion to this tormentor. He froze, uncertain how to respond, but thankfully another voice behind the cadet spoke up.

“Back off,” the other man said casually, stepping around the puddle on the floor and Senik’s satchel. “Not his fault the bulls left you their tails.”

His words had an instantaneous effect, the palpable tension in the room diffused and the Andorian immediately shifted his attention to the Human who insulted him, as did the rest of the class. Senik earned but one last brief look of disdain from the Andorian before he moved to his seat several rows back.

“You okay, kid?” the man who spoke up inquired.

Senik could only nod, knowing his ears were still burning. The Human smiled, a strong and reassuring thing, and moved to his own seat. Senik thought back to his spreadsheet of potential candidates, pulled out his PADD surreptitiously, and navigated to his list. He found line 63, made some notations, and sat through the rest of the lecture without incident.

As soon as class ended Senik bolted out of his seat in no small part because he wished to avoid another conflict with the clumsy Andorian. He made it into the hallway and found his cousin finishing a conversation with another instructor.

“You left this,” the man said, holding out the small bag containing every last bit of Senik’s precious research.

“Thank you,” Senik replied, taking the bag. Spock appeared over his shoulder, shooting his young charge a questioning look.

“Don’t let Skeral scare you, he’s more afraid you’ll embarrass him again,” he advised, gave Spock a jaunty salute. Without further comment, the Human strode into a throng of other cadets, lost in the crowd within moments. Spock was still looking the way the cadet had disappeared when Senik turned, bag in hand.

“Who was that individual?” Spock asked.

_ Line 63: James Tiberius Kirk. _

_ 26 years old. Terran. _

_ Command track. _

_ Several undetermined allergies. _

_ “Serial Monogamist.” _

Senik had overheard that last term, spoken in hushed tones behind the hands of the cadets, and had to research what it meant. It had disqualified him initially. Perhaps Senik had made an error. Perhaps he had failed to consider other less quantifiable variables.

He had failed to consider Jim Kirk.

“I do not know,” he answered honestly. But he would find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Gentle Readers, 
> 
> I love to think hundreds of years in the future Starbucks is considered a quaint old-timey spot for tourists and pretentious college students. Visitors get to see how old fashioned drinks like frappuccinos are made from high fructose corn syrup, just like our many many greats grandparents used to drink it. "Savor the sights and sounds of the olde ye chain coffee spot!"
> 
> Thank you for your kudos and comments and mental chocolate, and thank you for reading, walkandtalk


	7. Conclusion

Jim was a man in love.

It was a love that was forged in a fire of passion, weathered adventure and catastrophe, and tested in numerous trials. Jim was comforted, carried, and loved in equal measure. He had no doubt of that.

But he did doubt that Spock was in his right mind today.

All day he was twitchy. Not Human twitchy, but the kind of subtle double checking that one might mistake for Spock being exceptionally thorough if they hadn’t shared quarters on a starship with him for almost two years. He needed to know if Jim was taking first shift. It was the third day of rotations, he always took first shift. He overheard him asking Sulu if he was meeting Jim for sparring. On the third day of rotation he always ended with a workout with the ship’s helmsman. Routines such as these, Jim was told, kept his mind sharp and his crew confident in his leadership. The person who told him was Spock.

His aforementioned science officer was sitting in their shared living quarters at his desk, staring at a screen.

“Hello,” Jim called from the door, surprised to see Spock wasn’t preparing their meal and waiting for Jim to set the table, as was their third-day tradition. Jim had to check their tenuous psionic link and was surprised that Spock was actively shielding him, something he rarely did. “Everything okay?”

Spock nodded and turned to face Jim. “I had finished a call with Senik. He sent me some reading material I wished to discuss.”

Jim smiled at the mention of his second favorite Vulcan. “Oh yeah? How is he?”

“He is well. He has several questions regarding the Academy application process that I will forward to you.”

Jim nodded, still unsure of the mood of his lover. Better to wait, he had learned to trust Spock to share when he was ready.

“Senik is zealous in his pursuit of science,” Spock started, holding up a PADD. “We are both privy to and the former targets of his attempts to document his interactions with other species when I was his guardian and, relatedly, his efforts find me a romantic partner.” 

Jim nodded.

“I was not aware of how well documented and extensive his efforts were.” He held out the PADD, not quite making eye contact. It worried him. And then he saw what Senik had compiled and understood why.

Pie charts.

Pages of notes, references for the references, kilometers of footnotes.

More pie charts.

Jim sat in silence, scanning through the pages until his shoulder started shaking with barely contained laughter.

“He thinks we’re perfect for each other, doesn’t he?”

Spock nodded. “Have you read the crew’s reviews of our relationship dynamic?”

Jim stopped laughing.

“Uhura said we were only thirty-nine percent likely to agree in career matters,” Jim said, affronted. “Surely we agree more than that.”

“She rated us both highly in intrapersonal harmony and social agreeableness.”

Jim hummed thoughtfully, paging through more pages, a little enthralled and disturbed by seeing so much detail of his life on the screen. “What did you think what Bones rated us in--”

“Jim?”

“Yes?”

“I think you should marry me.”

Jim dropped the PADD into his lap and looked up to see Spock holding a ring in the palm of his hand, his other hand reaching for Jim.

“You think you should marry me?” Jim echoed, dazedly placed his hand in Spock’s, accepting the ozh’esta with his two fingers.

“I know,” Spock corrected. “James Tiberius Kirk, please accept this ring and my request to bind our katra and lives together.”

Jim knew his answer. When he had helped a sugar-drunk Spock off his motorcycle in Alameda and every experience after had revealed who he wanted at his side.

“Yes,” he replied, “always,” and was rendered speechless by the subsequent mental response of joy from his future bondmate.

\--

When Jim could finally admire his ring they were sitting down to asparagus quiche, his favorite dish at the restaurant Spock had taken him to on their first date, complete with actual candles. In the real candlelight, he noticed the striking iridescent bronze scrolling pattern inlaid in the silver.

“My mother’s design,” Spock explained. “A similar inscription is on a pendant my father wears, her gift to him upon their engagement.”

Jim squinted at the words. “Something  _ in heart and… _ ”

“Beloved of my heart and mind, loosely translated from the High Golic. My mother was a sentimentalist.”  _ As am I _ , left unsaid.

“When did you decide to propose?” Jim asked. “Don’t tell me Senik had to convince you.”

Spock shook his head firmly. “I knew I wanted to have you as my bondmate well before his peer-reviewed research was published. However the timing of my proposal seemed…”

“Logical?”

“Well informed,” Spock said, arching an eyebrow. “Senik did not reach out to you about this private matter?”

“No,” Jim honestly denied. “He’s been very respectful about our boundaries. I think he’s really matured in the last year.”

Spock opened the PADD again, flipping through the citations. “These surveys were dated in the last month.”

Jim paused, putting down his fork. “You don’t think…”

“Lieutenants Sulu and Uhura were very interested in the exact stardates of our birthdays at the last officer retreat.”

“Scotty wasn’t thinking about proposing to Carol, I knew that couldn’t be… son of a gun. Betrayed by our own crew.” Jim dramatically flung an arm over his eyes in shame. “To Senik.”

“Mutiny?”

Jim chuckled. “Definitely. Please put a note in my schedule to have them all flogged.”

“Tomorrow you are inspecting the sensor array upgrades.”

“And then the tour of the Ornithoid system.” Jim sighed. “I guess we’ll have to put it off for a while.”

“Until after the bonding ceremony,” Spock suggested dryly.

“Definitely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a tiny epilogue left, gentle readers.


	8. References

**Several years later, Starfleet Medical Campus, Alameda, Earth**

Senik stood outside the hospital room, looking through the darkly tinted observation glass as Spock and several doctors hovered over Jim’s pale form. He could see his own face in the glass, impassive, no hint at the anxiety and stress he was harboring inside.

Jim _ must _ be well.

Perhaps a younger child would cry or insist that the universe was not fair. Senik was thirteen years old. He knew that the universe had no such system of equity.

Jim _ must _ be well.

When Spock left Jim’s bedside and entered the observation room where Senik waited, his face was equally impassive.

“The doctors say they are hopeful. He has a chance of making a full recovery.”

Senik nodded, silently noting that Spock did not specify what the estimated chance was.

“The neurologist is concerned our bond is causing strain on his limbic system,” his older cousin continued. “The subcortical readings are not yet causing alarm, but they want to keep me under observation to evaluate his recovery.”

“Then I will wait with you,” Senik said before Spock could encourage him otherwise.

“There is no need.”

“Jim’s recovery necessitates your presence, it would be illogical for me to leave you here now,” Senik pointed out.

Spock paused, and Senik could see that he was attempting to list and relist the reasons why Senik should return to his temporary quarters in San Diego, to study at the very least, but he saw the moment when he simply gave up and opened the door to Jim’s hospital room. Spock took the first chair, Senik the second, and they sat in vigil.

Twenty-nine hours later Jim woke briefly and smiled before falling back into a healing sleep. The doctors all agreed he was “out of the woods.” Senik finally felt able to leave but returned the next day to a sleeping Jim. He quietly took Spock’s seat as soon as his worry-weary cousin could be convinced to leave Jim’s side for a moment. Senik waited for the first signs that Jim was naturally waking from his healing slumber.

“I can feel you hovering,” Jim muttered groggily. He opened his eyes, slowly focusing and then narrowing on Senik. “I thought you were Spock for a minute.”

Senik nodded, pleased to note Jim was alert to notice his psi-bonds. “You can feel me, through your marriage bond, when we are physically close.” He felt a small nudge among the scant tethers of his living family, curious and lightening-quick among the older bonds. Jim made a content sound.

“You finished your exams?” he asked, sounding more alert.

Senik nodded.

“Good lad. I hope my recommendation helped.”

“It will,” Senik said earnestly. “You are the best that humanity has to offer.”

Jim snorted. “Says who?”

“Academia has yet to provide appropriate peer review on the subject, but I am confident in my statement.”

Jim paused and then struggled to sit up, trying to peer at Senik closer. “You joked.” His gaze moved over Senik’s shoulder. “He made a joke. About science.”

“I heard,” his cousin replied, a gentle hand at his shoulder gave him a reassuring squeeze.

“Never,” Senik objected. Jim quirked an eyebrow up, uncannily Vulcan. “Improbable,” Senik amended.

Jim guffawed openly, not the least bit put off by the intense gazes of his two favorite Vulcans. “I’m putting this in my log: Senik jokes about science. I’ll be telling your children’s children about this one.”

And he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gentle Readers,
> 
> And they all lived happily ever after, as judged by a panel of experts.
> 
> It's hard to believe something that got started almost exactly seven years ago is finally at an end. My absolutely favorite part of this story was all of you, the returning readers and new readers, the folks who just wanted to say "hi," and those that have stuck with me through almost every story, thank you for being a reader and sharing your thoughts and experiences. You've brightened so many of my days.
> 
> Wishing you all the best, walkandtalk


End file.
